


I Hate You

by itsnotlove



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Bickering, Books, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, fluff fluff fluff, fluffy fluff, nose kisses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-05-03 18:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5302460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotlove/pseuds/itsnotlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Shizaya stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're annoying

It wasn’t that Shizuo didn’t read, it was that he didn’t read  _often._

There were always a thousand things to do, and even when he did have the time to sit back and read something, the majority of books pissed him off so much he’d throw them through a wall. It was something that bothered him, as he often wanted to escape into a fictional world where no one threw knives or vending machines.

So when Kasuka sent him a new book he’d found, he was suspicious. The note had assured him that reading the novel wouldn’t end in renovations and he’d opened it cautiously, as if it might bite him. However, Kasuka had been right when he’d said Shizuo would enjoy the novel, and Shizuo hadn’t been able to put it down.

He was taking his time reading it, savouring each page as if he’d never be able to read again. He was only two chapters in when Izaya had decided to stop by, breaking in through the window over the sink as he usually did.

“Shizu-chan’s apartment looks-”

_Click._

Izaya was rudely interrupted by the sound of Shizuo’s bedroom door closing and shifted his weight to one hip. Shizuo often  _pretended_ to be irritated to see him, but he just  _knew_ that it was a lie. This was partially out of arrogance, and partially because he’d find himself face down on the kitchen counter with a beast ripping his pants off as soon as he made his presence known. 

To be ignored this passively gave him a heavy feeling in his chest, and the urge to stop on Shizuo’s face. Still, Orihara Izaya was a mature and rational adult who would only stoop to mutilating his boyfriend for larger offenses. He slowly walked toward the bedroom door and rest his hand on the knob, trying to think of a plan of attack.

Meanwhile, Shizuo was lying on his stomach on his bed, his elbows propping him up as he read the book. It was something about pirates, but they weren’t all that bloodthirsty. Instead, it seemed as though they’d been forced into pirating and were trying to make their way to a quiet island where they could find peace. 

To say that Shizuo could relate would be an understatement. 

So when Izaya slowly opened the door and crept in, he was too absorbed in his story to notice. What he did notice, however, was a knife being jabbed into his bare foot. 

“Izaya.” He sighed, rolling onto his back and shooing his boyfriend away with his feet. It hadn’t hurt or even pierced the skin, but it had been a ticklish distraction. “Busy. Fuck off.” 

“Shizu-chan is teaching himself to read?” Izaya asked, his tone attempting to be mocking but sounding surprisingly hurt. “You’ll give yourself a headache.” 

“You  _are_ my headache.” Shizuo responded, flipping a page indignantly. 

Izaya laughed at that, placing his knees onto the bed between Shizuo’s legs and crawling up his body, “Are you saying I’m  _yours_?”

“Tch.” Shizuo tried to ignore the weight on his stomach and the fact that Izaya was straddling him, but it was difficult when he felt those eyes burning into his skull. He adjusted his book, raising it slightly and blocking Izaya’s line of sight. 

The hands holding Shizuo’s vest tightened ever so slightly as Izaya pouted. He exhaled loudly, bouncing up and down on Shizuo’s stomach in an effort to annoy him. When that didn’t work, he collapsed on the blonde’s chest dramatically, nudging the book with his head. 

“Shizu-chan is boring.” 

“…”

“Shizu- _chan._ ”

Shizuo bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep his eyes on the page in front of him and not on the surprisingly cute face that was resting on his chest.

“If Shizu-chan likes stories, then I  _suppose_ I could tell you some…”

Shizuo’s arms relaxed, falling gently onto Izaya’s back along with the book. He looked down on Izaya with a soft expression, having realised that the man was jealous of a  _book._

“What do you want, Flea?”

Izaya pouted, head rolling around on Shizuo’s chest as he fidgeted. Shizuo was patient as he waited for an answer, but that patience quickly wore out when he realised that Izaya was literally just rubbing his face against him for no reason.

“What are you doin’!?” He growled with irritation, grabbing the informant by the scruff of the neck and dragging him up where he could see him. They were eye to eye and only a few centimetres apart, and Shizuo had to concentrate on _not_ crushing Izaya by accident. 

“What are you, a cat? What are you  _doing?_ ”

Izaya’s smirk turned into a smile, disarming the blonde slightly. His grip loosened enough for Izaya to close the gap, rubbing his nose against Shizuo’s.

“Now you belong to me.”

“Wha-?”

“You said I’m a cat, and this is how cats mark their territory.” Izaya replied, sounding bored as he rubbed his nose against Shizuo’s again.

“But it’s not wet.” Shizuo replied lamely, his cheeks tinged such a soft shade of pink that Izaya wouldn’t have noticed it had he not been so close. “So it doesn’t leave a smell.”

“I thought you said I stunk?”

“You  _do_  stink, but that’s a  _different_ stink. Needs to be wet to leave a smell!”

Shizuo’s hand had loosened on Izaya’s clothes completely, with his fingers softly rubbing the back of Izaya’s neck instead. He licked his lips, wanting to lean in and kiss the louse, but he didn’t want to reward him for bad behaviour either.

“Hmm, that isn’t a  _totally_ stupid point.” Izaya replied, moving to rest his forehead against Shizuo’s. He sat there quietly for a moment as if he were deep in thought, waiting for Shizuo to ask for a kiss. “What should we do about that?”

Shizuo’s eyes were staring at Izaya’s lips, desperate to make contact. At Izaya’s question they flickered back to the almost-red eyes in front of him, catching the playfulness behind them. Knowing that Izaya wanted him to beg and not wanting to give him the satisfaction, he quickly tilted his head, kissing the very tip of Izaya’s nose.

“Wh-”

“That’s how you leave a smell.” Shizuo explained proudly, smiling brightly at himself. “Because it has to be we-”

Izaya regained his composure and will to fight midway through Shizuo’s sentence, and leaned forward to lick the tip of Shizuo’s nose in response.

“Now it’s wet!” 

“That’s too wet!”

“Too wet?”

“It’s meant to only be a little wet!”

Izaya rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, as if Shizuo were the one behaving like a child. He used his thumb to roughly wipe the saliva off of Shizuo’s nose, replacing it with a chaste kiss instead. “Better?” 

Shizuo’s frown was slowly turning into a smile despite his desire to ignore the question, and Izaya laughed.

“So is Shizu-chan finished reading?” 

“Oh, the book.” He reached down and grabbed it, eyebrows creasing in thought. “Not yet.”

With one quick movement, he rolled on top of Izaya and pinned him beneath him, propping himself up on his elbows once again. With one hand he held Izaya’s (to stop him moving, of course), and with the other he opened his book. 

Within a page, he was so sucked into the story that he’d managed to tune out Izaya’s wriggling and complaining yet again, and didn’t move out of bed until dinner time.


	2. Shut up

“Just stay still.” Izaya’s answer gave no explanation as to _why_ Shizuo needed to stay still, but he couldn’t seem to move after hearing it. There was something strange in Izaya’s voice that was almost akin to embarrassment, and it had Shizuo’s limbs feeling far too heavy for him to lift.

Instead, he stayed in his slightly uncomfortable position on the bed. His neck was bent awkwardly against the too large pillow (which he would stubbornly use, as there was no such thing as a decorative pillow because it’s a _goddamn pillow_ , and if he wanted something decorative, he’d buy a fucking candle), and his outstretched arm had the tips of his fingers resting against his half-empty pack of cigarettes.

It was too early for Izaya’s energy, and he’d have to drag himself out of bed and into the shower sometime in the next ten minutes. There really wasn’t time for whatever this was, but again, he couldn’t seem to make his body move.

Not when the annoyance straddling his waist was looking at him so curiously.

“What?” His question was supposed to be asked with a grunt, but came out as more of a whine. “You’re being weirder than usual, which means you’re being pretty weird.”

Izaya wet his lips as his eyes moved over Shizuo’s body, never lingering for too long in any given place. It was like he’d dropped something and was hoping to find it, but as he’d only just woken up himself, he really shouldn’t have had anything to drop.

“Izaya?”

With a pleased hum, Izaya moved drew his gaze toward Shizuo’s, the meeting of their eyes signalled when Shizuo’s heart skipped a beat.

“Shizu-chan…” Izaya’s smile wrapped around each syllable, contorting the name in a way only he could.

“Huh?”

“…looks very human today.”

“What are you saying?” The tips of Shizuo’s ears darkened and his muscles tensed, but he still didn’t move. “Don’t say something like that so early!”

“But you _do_ look so human! Just like the wolf in that western story.” With a laugh, Izaya ignored the demand easily, raking his nails down Shizuo’s abdomen as he bounced happily. “If I cut open your stomach, will I find a monster?”

“Like Hell, the only monster here is you!” Shizuo’s heart pounded wildly in his chest, but he kept his eyes focused on Izaya’s.

Any discomfort Shizuo might have been feeling was met with open arms by his harasser, who took the opportunity to slide himself up Shizuo’s body. He stopped only once he was straddling his chest, and ran the fingers of both his hands through Shizuo’s hair as he leaned over him.

“Your disguise is quite handsome. It looks like you stole it from an idol.” Shizuo stayed still as Izaya spoke, both wanting and not wanting to crane his neck and shut the idiot up the best way he knew how. “Ah, but maybe it’s Shizu-chan who makes it look so handsome?”

“Shut up..” Shizuo’s hands moved to Izaya’s hips, holding them firmly. His thumbs traced circles into the skin just above the waistband, and he couldn’t help but smile as Izaya leaned into the touch.

“No.”

“Shut up, or-”

“I _dare_ you.”

The alarm on Shizuo’s phone rang out just as he reversed their positions. Izaya’s back hadn’t even touched the mattress by the time Shizuo was already pulling away, desperately searching for his phone so he could shut it up. Though the sound wasn’t mood ruining in itself, what it symbolised certainly was.

With a great deal of reluctance, both the men pulled themselves off the bed and searched silently for Shizuo’s screaming phone. By the time they’d found it, there was no designated ~~cuddle~~ conversation time left, and they both needed to start their mornings.

Not that it mattered too much, since Izaya had (unilaterally, and without telling Shizuo) decided it was Bring Your Boyfriend To Work Day. So there’d be plenty of time to pick things up where they left off later.


	3. I love you.

“I love you.”

It was such a simple sentence; one that had been said by millions of others, with varying levels of sincerity. Honestly, it was almost cliche at this stage, and it felt so _lacking._

How could _love_ even _begin_ to describe how he felt? It was a four letter word with only one syllable, whereas the feelings he had were multicoloured and dazzling. They blinded him, deafened him, and increased his heart rate.

His _soul_ ached with the desperate want for this person trapped in his arms, and this one word had the _audacity_ to proclaim that it could speak for him? That it could explain each confusing and terrifying thought and prayer?

“I _love_ you.”

Even when spoken with more feeling, it still felt empty.

Hollow.

It would never be enough. It could never convey the intensity of this emotion.

There was no way that he’d ever understand, just from hearing that word, that he’d give up everything for him (though not without some minor complaints).

“ _I_ _ **love** you_ **.** ”

How much? For how long? How often had he found himself smiling at the mere thought of this person? How many times had he found himself unable to sleep, just because the excitement of waking up next to him was too much?

The idea that he could touch him, taste him, kiss him, hold him, and just _be with_ him…

“ ** _I love you._** ”

It wasn’t enough.

These words weren’t enough.

But maybe, just maybe, if he said them often enough, he’d be able to get his feelings across.

“ ** _I LOVE Y-_** ”

“SHUT UP! Protozoan!”

The thin body in Shizuo’s arms shifted, only trying to escape for the sake of appearances. Izaya finally gave up after a few awkward movements, apparently content with shoving his glowing face into his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“I hate you, Shizu-chan.”

It was like a switch had been flipped in Shizuo’s mind, and all the earlier thoughts he’d had suddenly felt ridiculous. Of course that word was lacking, because it could never mean as much as this. It could never have the same history, and could never _feel_ as powerful.

As he squeezed Izaya into his chest, Shizuo buried his face into mop of dark hair resting against his shoulder.

“I hate you, too.”


	4. Huh?

“Huh?!” Disbelief seemed to zap out any eloquence that Shizuo might once have possessed, leaving him with no other way to question what he’d just heard. “Is… this a joke?” **  
**

It had to be a joke. There was no way in Hell that Orihara Izaya would say something like that so suddenly, and definitely not to Heiwajima Shizuo. They were supposed to hate each other, not-!

“I love Shizu-chan.” Izaya repeats himself a little more quietly, still embarrassed by how readily he’d shouted it before. There’s a faint pink to his cheeks, though it isn’t all that noticeable unless you’re looking for it, and his heart feels as though it’s pounding a thousand miles an hour.

He really hadn’t meant to say anything, and hadn’t even realised he’d felt this way until after it had been blurted out. But now that he knew, so many things seemed to make sense. So many of his memories, all Shizu-chan centric, revolved through his mind, making him smile despite his best efforts.

He loved him.

He loves him.

He wants him, forever. To hold onto his hands and bring them to his lips. To lay in the dark beside him, just knowing that he’s there. To make sure that no one hurts him, or touches him, or- god forbid- steals him away.

He wants Shizuo. His Shizuo.

“Fuck off?” Shizuo’s answer is hardly a deterrent, with the command turning into a question mostly directed at himself. “The fuck…? Wha-?”

“I don’t know!”

“What d’ya mean, you don’t know! You can’t just fucking say something like… like that and-”

“I didn’t mean it!”

“What-!? You bas-!” Shizuo takes a step forward, confusion and anger intermingling inside of him.

“I love you!” Taking a step forward of his own, Izaya repeats his declaration with more conviction, forcing Shizuo to take a step backward.

“Shut up.”

“Shizu-ch-” Izaya takes another step forward, and Shizuo takes another backward. He still wants to deny this, but seeing Shizuo so… like this… it’s-

“Shut up!” Another step backward and Shizuo is pressed against the wall, his pulse echoing in his ears. “Don’t just say shit like that!”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Like fuck I do!” Shizuo’s fingers dig into the bricks behind him, and his voice sounds just a little unsure. “You’re lyin’.”

Though someone else might be offended by such honest words, Izaya finds himself with a flutter in his chest. “I love yo-”

“Prove it.” Shizuo interrupts without meaning to, and he turns his head away in embarrassment.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“NO!” In an effort to protect himself, he covers his mouth with a hand, the force of it landing against his lips enough to push his head into the wall behind him and leave a crater. “Just… tell me!”

Izaya hadn’t thought all of this through. To be more precise, he hadn’t thought any of this through at all. The news had been just as shocking for him as it had been for Shizuo, and yet he couldn’t find it in him to even pretend to think of a reason. The swell of previously unnoticed feelings rose within his chest, spilling reasons more quickly than he ever thought possible.

“I love the way you smile at me, because you only smile at me like that. The way you always miss a bit of hair when you bleach it, and the fact that your hair always smells like chocolate- yes, I can smell it from here, Shizu-chan.” Izaya reaches out a hand, the tips of his fingers ghosting over the hair covering Shizuo’s eyes. “I love how you speak when you’re angry, and how different you are when you aren’t. How can you be two people? It’s amazing! Really, you’re the most interesting human-”

“Human?” Cutting Izaya off, Shizuo’s hand drops to his side. Izaya’s fingers brush the bleached hair out of his face, then move to stroke his cheek.

“What about humans?”

“You just said-!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“YOU SAID I WAS HUMAN!” Shizuo’s hand makes for Izaya’s wrist but misses by centimetres. Surprised by the quickness of the movement, he loses his balance once Izaya’s hands make their way to his collar and he’s being dragged forward and down.

His mouth opens, a shocked sound escaping just as Izaya leans forward and their lips collide painfully. It’s messy, wet, and clumsy, with teeth bumping against teeth and tongues missing mouths completely.

But for everything it lacks, it makes up for with electricity.

Fire.

Years of passion slammed into one awkward and enthusiastic kiss.

“I love you, Shizuo.”

The confession is whispered into his ear before Shizuo even realises they are no longer kissing, a pleasant pressure still making his lips throb. All his energy gone, he slumps forward, his head landing on Izaya’s shoulder.

“..?”

“…also… me.”

“Shizu-chan?”

“I love you, too. Bastard.”


	5. Protected

He knows he’s there, even if he can’t see him. He can feel those eyes on his back, watching his every movement. It should feel creepy, he knows that, but he only feels excitement and mild confusion (as well as an unhealthy amount of rage for unrelated reasons).

With a smile that few have ever seen, he picks up man grovelling at his feet and tosses him down the street with just a little more finesse than usual. If he has a worthy audience, then it’d be rude not to put on a show, right?

Well, maybe it wasn’t as good of a show as he thought since it’s not enough for his stalker to come out of the shadows.

Ah, it doesn’t matter. It must just take more than just that to drag him out.

Lighting the unlit cigarette that’s been dangling between his lips for far too long, Shizuo wonders why Izaya always does this. At first he assumed it was to piss him off, but after a few months of being silently stalked, he no longer thinks that’s the case.

Maybe it’s something else, something nicer that neither of them can verbalise just yet.

“HEIWAJIMA, YOU BASTARD!” The war cry of an idiot snaps him out of his reverie before he has a chance to think any more deeply on the topic, and forces him back into the incredibly annoying present. All the rage he’d felt earlier had dissipated the moment the grovelling man left his grip, but it begins to circle in his gut once again at the insult.

“Eh?” Leaning a shoulder against the closest wall, Shizuo takes a lazy drag of his cigarette. “Who’s the bastard? You that bastards friend?”

The man who’d yelled shifts uncomfortably, as if he’s thinking long and hard about his reply. Sure, he’s facing off against Ikebukuro’s Strongest, but that doesn’t mean he’s definitely going to lose, right? Besides, Shizuo really is a bastard!

With newfound confidence, the man takes a shaking step forward and reaches into his pocket, ignoring Shizuo’s earlier question. “You bastard! You don’t even remember me, do you?! My girlfriend left me after you sent me to hospital!”

Shizuo takes another drag of his cigarette, his temple throbbing with irritation. Why are the love lives of jackasses always his business?! What’s he got to do with anything?! Still, maybe he should give him a break since he’s gone through a breakup or something. “I dunno what you’re talking about, so fuck off.”

With an almost manic laugh, Shizuo’s assailant pulls something metallic out from his pocket. It’s black and small, almost girlish in appearance when compared to the size of its owner’s hand. It wobbles a bit in his fingers, which are obviously unaccustomed to holding firearms, but still manages to look sufficiently threatening.

Pushing himself off the wall, Shizuo turns to face his attacker properly. A bullet will hurt, but it won’t kill him (probably). Besides, he might even be able to dodge it if he really focuses.

“Just die, Heiwajima. Fuck off back to Hell.”

It’s instinct rather than fear that causes Shizuo’s eyes to close in anticipation of pain. The loud shot that soon follows makes him jump despite his best efforts not to, and he chastises himself for forgetting to try and dodge the bullet heading his way.

Or the bullet that should have been heading his way.

Shizuo forces his eyes open and sees his attacker on the ground, a small pool of blood leaking from his shoulder. Had he shot himself? He hadn’t managed to shoot Shizuo (though Shizuo gives himself a once over just in case), and the gun did fire, so he must have managed to shoot himself, right?

Taking a few steps toward the motionless body, Shizuo cautiously inspects it. He must have fainted, he decides, but why faint when you’re about to shoot someone? Do people bleed when they faint? And he mustn’t have shot himself, since he’d have had to have been conscious for that, right?

Nah, there’s more to this.

He lets his gaze travel along the limp man’s body before it’s drawn to the injured shoulder. There’s something caught in there, something small and shiny that he instantly recognises.

Ah, is that why Izaya is following him?

Chuckling lightly to himself, Shizuo leans down to pull out the blade. The guy probably won’t die, probably, and there’s no point in leaving a perfectly good knife in someone’s shoulder. Taking another drag on his cigarette, he tosses it in the direction he feels Izaya might be in then slowly walks away.

To feel protected when others need protection from you, well… Shizuo decides he doesn’t hate it. But he will pretend that none of this ever happened. It wouldn’t be right to inadvertantly embarrass Izaya into stopping.


	6. Anticipa-

There was something special about this.

With Shizuo’s lips hovering so closely to his own, Izaya’s heart beat loudly in his ears. They were standing so closely together, but far enough away that a glimmer from the rising sun illuminated the distance still between them.

They hadn’t meant to see each other. It had been random- totally unplanned, and unpredictable in the way it made them both behave.

There’d been no screaming, no growls, no laughter, and no threats. The world had gone silent, as if it were waiting with baited breath for the pair to do something.

It had taken what felt like hours for Shizuo to walk toward him, his footsteps careful but confident. Their eyes had met almost instantly, and it seemed as though neither had blinked since. Why risk breaking the connection, and falling away from whatever spell they were under?

The closer Shizuo came, the further Izaya backed away. Not out of fear, or some sort of game, but so they’d be closer to the lingering darkness that clung to the wall behind him. As his back pressed against the cool concrete, Izaya reached out a hand and gripped Shizuo’s shirt desperately.

Shizuo’s pace remained the same despite it, though his eyes dropped to Izaya’s lips as he licked his own.

They were close, so close, but the air between them felt thick and nearly impenetrable.

Unable to bridge the gap, Shizuo’s eyes flicked back toward Izaya’s, catching them as they did the same. His hand, acting on its own as though it had done this a thousand times before, moved up to Izaya’s face until a finger and thumb could catch his chin tenderly.

Such power was hidden in that fragile grasp, forcing out a shiver that rocked Izaya’s body to its core.

They were so close that they shared the same air. The space between their lips so scarce that Izaya were to wet his lips, he’d surely touch Shizuo’s as well.

So close, so close, so close-

The sun rose higher, time somehow managing to continue despite the circumstances. It chased away the leftover darkness until not even the faintest shadow remained.

Sighing softly, Shizuo leaned slightly forward as his eyes searched Izaya’s, before pulling away altogether. He turned shakily, only barely managing to drag his eyes away, and walked quickly away.

Izaya stayed against the wall, his heart in his throat as his hand stayed clutching the phantom of Shizuo’s shirt. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar roar and the sound of bricks being punished that he finally remembered to breath.

As the sounds around him rushed back into focus, Izaya laughed softly to himself.

“What was..?”


	7. ‘He’s the first to ever accept me.’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By request: _[Hi can I request trans Izaya and Shizuo being the most protective boyfriend ever? Pretty pretty please? Fluff/smut/angst or all idc (I just WANT TRANS IZAYA IN UR BEAUTIFUL WRITING PLS ;;<3)](http://itsnotloveifitsjust.tumblr.com/post/153527533679/hi-can-i-request-trans-izaya-and-shizuo-being-the)_

“I don’t hit girls.”

In highschool, these words came both as a blessing and a curse. Directed at someone who wore a dress to school and had long, beautiful hair, it really came as no surprise. No matter how awful, manipulative, or cruel, Izaya never felt the repercussions of his actions.

For years, that seemed to offset the downsides of being born into a female body. He could see a different, more raw side of humanity, even when it was less than pleasant to him (or bordering on disgusting).

“You’re lucky you’re a girl! Or I’d beat the shit out of you!”

Ah, that wonderful curse. Was it boredom that urged him to test the limits of those surrounding him? Or was it curiosity? Just how far would he need to go before that line was forgotten? It wasn’t as if Izaya couldn’t defend himself- he’d probably be the one to walk out of any fight with his male classmates (even if he walked with a limp).

How much would it take for him to be considered an equal, and to be treated equally? He didn’t really want to be hit, but it felt as though he were missing out on something crucial. How could he, an observer of humanity, observe when something as ridiculous as his appearance kept getting in the way?

There were so many facets to humans, and he only saw a precious few. It had been desperately unfair.

All these thoughts swirled through Izaya’s mind as he soared backward through the air. His face stung, both with the quickly forming bruise and the smile that felt as though it might cut through his cheeks, but Izaya had never felt happier.

_‘He’s the first to ever accept me.’_

“HEIWAJIMA!” A teacher yelled just as Izaya’s body hit the wall. “Did you just hit Orihara-chan?!”

“Oh my god!”

“He hit her!”

“Is she okay?!”

“He pissed me off.” Shizuo snarled his reply, though he was careful to try and mind his tone in front of a teacher.

“You can’t hit girls!”

“I don’t hit girls.”

“You just did! Get yourself to the office, this is unacceptable!”

Even as Izaya laid there, annoyed that someone had managed to touch him and obviously in pain, he couldn’t help but laugh.

Finally, someone saw him as more than his appearance. They saw him for what he was: a ma-

“BASTARD FLEA!”

Ten years later, and there was no sign of the fights between Izaya and Shizuo stopping. Izaya was officially using his name now, one that he’d had his parents choose (wasn’t it strange that they’d shown little to no resistance?), and very few people ever brought up his previous identity.

It mightn’t be because Japan was accepting, but more because of the perceived danger of doing such a thing.

There was no telling what such a thing would bring upon them. To imply that Izaya was anything other than a bastard would surely bring death and destruction upon those who dared to say it. The last time someone had dared was at Izaya’s coming of age ceremony, and that hadn’t worked well for anyone.

Chairs, vending machines, Shinra, and all sorts of earthbound things developed invisible wings, and were tossed through the air like they were nothing. The only thing that stopped the flow of destruction was a high-pitched and manic laugh, successfully distracting Shizuo from his rampage.

“I DON’T HIT GIRLS!”

“Shizu-chan is such a monster!”

“YOU BASTARD!”

Even now, years after, Shizuo refused to listen to anyone who said that Izaya was anything other than himself. How he knew, or why he was so accepting, was something of a mystery. It intrigued Izaya, though he tended to put it down to Shizuo having the nose and intuition of a loyal dog.

His dog, but a dog nonetheless. What else could explain his loyalty in the face of adversity, and his unwavering love and adoration (not that Shizuo would ever admit he felt those things, but the light touches and strong embraces said differently)? It was inhuman, to merely accept something so untraditional in their society without the slightest hint of resentment or disgust.

But Shizuo wasn’t human. He was a monster, a beast, and he was Izaya’s. The first and possibly the last to see Izaya for what he truly was, and to accept him without hesitation. To love and allow himself to be loved without question.

To Izaya, Shizuo might be the unthinkable: he might better than human.


	8. Idiots

As Shizuo sat on his futon, he wondered if he’d truly regret murdering Izaya. It was likely that he would, given his other, lighter feelings for him, but surely he’d be able to beat him a little bit, right? No one could blame him, not when the pest was being so annoying, and it’d practically be a public service.

Izaya kicked his legs childishly, and very nearly smacked Shizuo’s face with his foot. It was only Shizuo’s quick reflexes that saved him, but the close call did nothing for his rising anger.

How could a grown man lay on his stomach for half the day pouting?!  It was unnatural, and stupid, and not at all _cute_. No, not even the way that Izaya childishly kicked his legs back and forth could be considered cute. For God’s sake, the man was almost thirty!

“It’s not the _same,_ ” Izaya groaned, voice muffled by the mattress he seemed intent on suffocating himself with, “Shizu-chan _has_ to say it, so it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oi!” Shizuo made to snatch one of Izaya’s ankles, but somehow managed to miss it. “I don’t have to say anything!”

Izaya snickered into the mattress and let his legs drop. “Yes you do, and that’s why it isn’t the _same.”_

“You’re such a shitty bastard.” Shizuo’s voice was full of false anger, but he tried to ignore it. “Shouldn’t it mean _more_ when I say it?”

“…Shizu-chan, you don’t _count.”_

“Don’t count?! What the fuck, Izaya?”

“We fuck, so of course you want to say it.”

“That’s not- Oi!” A slight flush filled Shizuo’s cheeks at hearing Izaya speaking so casually about their… _activities…_ and he felt a wave of insecurity wash over him. With no other option (because he couldn’t let Izaya see him like this, and the idiot might turn around and check), he let himself fall forward and onto Izaya’s back heavily.

“Shizu-chan, you’re heavy!”

“Yeah, well you stink!”

“No I don’t!”

“Maybe that’s why humans don’t love you…” Shizuo shoved his face into the back of Izaya’s neck and inhaled dramatically, “Yeah, it’s definitely the stink.”

“I don’t sti- heavy! Get off!” Izaya wriggled as best he could, fighting the weight of his boyfriend valiantly. It was of no use, though, and after a short time, he eventually accepted that he might die there. “I hate you.”

“So?” Shizuo nuzzled the small patch of skin at the base of Izaya’s neck. “I love you.”

Izaya’s skin grew warmer, and he stayed silent (save for his laboured breathing). For a moment, Shizuo thought that the subject was finally over.

“But it’s not the _sam_ \- HNN! SHUUUZZOO-HHAAA! HAA HAAN HHEEETHHHHE!”

“GOOD!” Shizuo applied a bit more pressure to Izaya’s neck, and shoved his idiot boyfriend’s face further into the mattress. “DIE!”

“HHHNNN!”


	9. The Bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for voissane <3
> 
> for the sentence starter meme on tumblr

“Please tell me you know how to defuse a bomb.” Tom asked finally, his voice only a little strained. Vorona knew how to do a great many surprising things, so he wouldn’t put it past her to know how. There was nothing to be worried about.

Time stood still as the trio stared at the small package in front of them. It wasn’t unusual to receive threats in their profession—there was always some idiot who wanted to try their luck with Shizuo’s temper—but this was quite the escalation. Never in his life had Tom been threatened with a _bomb_ , but he supposed it wasn’t too bizarre. Shizuo’s reputation for surviving beatings, hit and runs, and even being shot, could make people act impulsively. Truthfully, Tom thought Vorona was the more dangerous of the two of them, but people never really talked about her.

Maybe they didn’t like being beaten up by such a beautiful woman? Why that was a problem was beyond him—he certainly wouldn’t mind Vorona punching him in the face (but only if there was a reason, of course).

Such thoughts truly didn’t help the situation, so Tom sighed and aimed a frown at the package sitting on the table in front of them. It looked like what a child would imagine a bomb to be—full of colourful wires poking out of round, red sticks (dynamite?), with a digital, green clock counting down on top of it. There was a familiar smell coming from it every now and then, but he couldn’t quite place it.

He glanced over to Shizuo, who was staring at the device with an expression of wonder, then to Vorona, who seemed to be a mixture of confusion and excitement. Neither expression seemed comforting. 

“Negative. This explosive is not known to me. It possesses an uncharacteristic number of wires; unusual and unnecessary.” She answered with a frown after what felt like an eternity, and kept her eyes on the bomb in front of them. After a moment, she shook her head slightly and pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I will request assistance.”

“Assistance?” The timer had less than a minute left, and Tom wasn’t sure it would be enough. “No, let’s just leave. We’ll call the cops and— _ **Shizuo**_!”

Shizuo had been silent for most of the day. It seemed like he might’ve had something on his mind, but Tom hadn’t wanted to pry. He understood Shizuo needed time to process things and get the words right in his head before talking about things. He’d discuss whatever was bothering him with Tom when he felt comfortable.

Now though, as Tom watched Shizuo’s arm move in slow motion to the bomb, he wondered if he should have asked him after all. Maybe he could have talked him out of slapping a bomb before he’d even done it.

It hit the floor with a hollow thump and a loud crack, which was followed by several strange rattling noises. Shizuo and Vorona shared a look, and the latter tucked her phone back into her pocket. They seemed to have a silent conversation, and Tom felt as though he’d had several heart attacks all at once.

“Sorry, Tom-san.” Shizuo said, then gave Vorona a nod. She walked around the table and crouched down to the floor and out of Tom’s view. “Maybe you should sit.”

“I’m fine, Shizuo.” Tom was not fine. “Is it gonna go off?”

“Negative.” There was more rattling by the floor. “I do not advise consumption.”

“Consu—? What?”

“Shizuo-senpai, did you smell it?”

“Smell what?” Tom asked.

“Chocolate.” Shizuo nodded solemnly, before following up quickly: “And shit.”

“I acknowledge The Flea’s scent also.”

“The—Izaya?” Sweat started to lick at Tom’s temples. “He planted a bomb?”

“Affirmative… Negative. The Flea has planted a pinata.” Vorona stood quickly and tossed several sweets onto the table. Their brightly coloured wrappers did nothing to quell Tom’s confusion, in fact, he felt more dumbfounded than anything else.

He hoped the series of stuttered almost-words was enough to convey his need for further explanation.

“A pinata is a hollow, brightly coloured container which sweets or gifts.”

“Ah.” Shizuo reached for one of the sweets and inspected it closely, an unreadable expression passing over his face. “Sorry, Tom-san, Vorona.”

“Apology unaccepted; there is no need for Shizuo-senpai to apologise. The Flea—”

Shizuo held up a hand. “You don’t have to forgive me, but this—” He gestured to the sweets on the table, “—is my fault. I’m sorry if you were scared. You can have some of the sweets if you’d like, they won’t be poisoned. Or… it might be better if I buy you new ones.”

“Shizuo?” The same unreadable expression was tugging at Shizuo’s lips, and Tom started to feel rather helpless. It didn’t look as though Shizuo was angry, but the deep red of his face wasn’t all that comforting. Maybe Shizuo was better at holding his anger in?

“Tom-san, would it be okay for me to leave for the day? I can walk you back to the office—”

“It’s fine, but are you all right?”

Shizuo was already moving away from the table, and offered an unconvincing shrug as a reply. It didn’t seem like he was in any mood for further discussion, and Vorona and Tom watched as he left the apartment entirely. After a brief moment of silence, Vorona made a small sound and bent in two to retrieve something from the floor.

“There is a note.”

The relief Tom had felt slowly retreated, and he straightened up in his chair. “What’s it say?”

“I do not understand.” Vorona replied as she turned the small piece of paper over in search of more answers. “What is ‘woo’?”

Tom lept to his feet and moved around the table, then leant over Vorona’s shoulder so he could read for himself. The words, printed carefully and with a neat heart symbol being used as punctuation, were so dramatic and embarrassing he wondered if they’d been copied out of a love story. He understood the words, but had couldn’t understand why Izaya would write Shizuo a note like this at all.

“I think some things are better left a mystery.” He took a step backward and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a good thing Shizuo didn’t see, even if it is addressed to him.”

It looked like Vorona wanted to disagree, but she was cut off when the front door opened.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

Oh, that’s right. Hadn’t they been waiting for their last debtor to come home?


End file.
